


The Little Vulcan

by Esperata



Series: Fairy Tales Retold [8]
Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Fairy Tale, Bad Parenting, Dancing, Fairy Tale Retellings, M/M, Running Away, Starfleet Academy, T'Pring (mentioned) - Freeform, The little mermaid - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-29 02:42:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15063248
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esperata/pseuds/Esperata
Summary: Spock is suffocating under his father's strict rules and regulations. Then he sees a troop of cadets and sets out to change his future.A retelling of "The Little Mermaid"





	1. Under

**Author's Note:**

> I don't much like the title but wasn't about to hold off posting while I came up with something better.

Spock’s early years were something of a hazy impression to him. He had sense memories of pleasure and disjointed recollections of seemingly momentous answers to his childish queries. That all changed on the day his father returned alone from his diplomatic trip to Earth.

“Where is mother?”

Sarek had stared at him as if he’d never seen his son before. That, even more than his mother’s absence, frightened Spock.

“Your mother… is gone. Do not ask me further.”

It was the first time Spock could recall being denied an answer. Although he did not understand fully then, he knew that everything he had known was gone with her. His father’s open encouragement as much as her warm comfort.

The young boy began to cry, though he could not have accurately said why.

Sarek turned from him.

“You must learn to govern your emotions. We will talk further when you are calm.”

Spock was left alone to cry out his confused grief.

When he spoke to his father later, he received the first of his new lessons – do not ask questions. Oh, he was free to ask about science and mathematics, history and literature, but anything that pertained to him personally… that was always ignored or dismissed.

Or nearly always. If all his questions had been met with silence then perhaps even Spock’s curiosity would have been crushed. But every now and then his father would respond. Almost as if he could not restrain the answer.

“Since mother was human, is it not logical that I should explore humanity?”

“The human world is a mess. Humans are dangerous savages.”

“Surely not all humans. Mother-” 

“Not another word! You will do as I say. I will not see you killed as she was.”

Spock fell silent, accepting Sarek’s law for now, but he gathered the fragments his father let slip. Over the years he pieced together what had happened, broadly speaking, on that fateful journey.

There had been a protest during their visit, to do with the alien planet Sarek was advocating the Federation accept into its ranks. Amanda had been injured – not deliberately as far as Spock could tell – but the medical facilities on Earth had not been able to save her.

Understanding the events allowed Spock to come to terms with his mother’s passing. However it did not ease his relationship with his father any. Even as he aged into a young man, Sarek continued to treat him as recalcitrant child, stubbornly ignoring his need to explore his world.

“What do they worship in that temple?”

“An old religion from before the age of Awakening. You do not need to know further.”

“But is not the principle of IDIC to embrace all ways of life?”

“Only so far as is beneficial to society. The priest is the source of many breaches of protocol. He encourages non-conformity. You are not to consider it further.”

Spock had by now learned to curb his inquisitive tongue and did not press the issue. It was a kind of balancing act he had developed through the years, learning to judge how much he might question before being reprimanded.

It was not something covered by his logic training and he discovered he must simply use intuition. The notion discomforted him as he developed his skills with logic. There was something comforting about logic’s regularity and simplicity. He learned therefore not to think about how he understood when to hold his tongue but simply to accept it.

Sometimes though, for all his discovered reliance on logic and instinct for retreat, he still found himself breaching the imposed restrictions.

“Why must I agree to bond with T’Pring?”

“There will come a point when you understand. For now you must simply do as I say.”

“But I am not attracted to females.”

“That is irrelevant. Marriage is for procreation.”

Something about the blunt statement caused Spock’s emotions to surge unexpectedly and he heard himself respond automatically.

“Father, I do not love her.”

Sarek fixed him with a cold stare.

“Do not speak of such emotion again. Go meditate. We will discuss this again when you are being rational.”

Spock obeyed, more from his own concern at speaking when he should have known it would be inappropriate. His father’s lessons throughout the years had not been in vain. Spock had come to rely on logic automatically for his everyday life. It disturbed him to find his emotions could still override his usual good sense.

After an hour in focused meditation he returned to his father’s study and calmly requested leave to walk into town.

For a second he believed Sarek would refuse. His outburst had altered his father’s now more familiar confidence in him. Yet, permission was silently granted and Spock took his leave.

The walk to town was also a familiar part of his routine. From his younger years Sarek had taken to walking with his son into Shikahr, commenting that the regular exercise was conducive to regular thought. Spock too had come to rely on the familiar routine as an opportunity for quiet thinking. As much as his meditation, he found it calming and today he needed that.

He moved with deliberation into the wide shopping street and let the accustomed activity sooth him. There were ordered patterns here that eased his thoughts. However something still felt wrong to him. The very consistency of activity jarred and it took him a second to acknowledge the cause.

His bond with T’Pring was based solely on tradition and expectation – just as the routines of the town were. They took no account of differences in feeling.

As a Vulcan, differences in feeling were as irrelevant as differences in colour were to the blind. Yet Spock was not fully Vulcan. He was half human – a fact his father seemed determined to ignore. Most illogically in Spock’s view.

His musing was disturbed by a sound that Spock almost remembered yet couldn’t place.

He looked up from his introspection and saw a troop of young people, all dressed in identical red uniforms, being guided across the street further along. Without further consideration he moved closer, wanting to isolate what that sound had been.

They were not Vulcans, that much was obvious even from his original distance, but until he got closer he could not be sure of their species. He felt an inappropriate thrill when he recognised they were in fact human.

“As representatives of Starfleet you must learn to assess new planets without preconceptions. To judge the citizens on their own merits.”

Their guide’s voice carried easily but a much nearer voice caught Spock’s curious ear.

“Just imagine it Bones. Whole new worlds that we could be the first to see.”

He glanced aside to see two cadets hovering at the edge of the large group.

“Yeah, whole new diseases and plagues and who knows what else.”

“I can hardly wait.”

Spock expected the other man to admonish his friend for this blasé answer and unconcerned grin but he was surprised. The man threw back his head and laughed.

The sound resonated in Spock’s mind as he forcefully recalled his mother’s carefree laughter and his breath caught as he stared at the smiling human, bright eyes sparkling with amusement and a smile tugging at his lips.

“You’ll be the death of me.”

“Aw. You wouldn’t have me any other way.”

Spock’s view was suddenly obstructed and when he looked again, the two cadets had gone, submerged back into their group. He tried to follow but they were clearly heading towards their shuttle where his presence would be noted.

With a flush of embarrassment at his own illogical behaviour he began to walk homeward.

What purpose would it have served to follow the cadets? Why had he felt the need to talk with them? Was it simply because he was drawn to the idea of exploration? Possible, he conceded but not exactly the truth.

No, he was drawn to the laughter. To the freedom of expression they’d enjoyed. The enthusiasm of the one and the honest bluntness of the other. Yes, something about the frank way he answered his friend’s eager passion drew Spock to him. It seemed such a far cry from his father’s evasive techniques and calculated replies. A sense that whatever Spock thought to ask or suggest would be treated with the same candidness.

Spock was still analysing this aura of trust when he stepped inside the family home and found Sarek waiting for him.

“Spock. It is well you are here. T’Pring will arrive this evening. You should prepare to complete your bonding in the morning.”

“Complete our bonding? Father, I have not agreed to bond with her.”

“That is irrelevant. I have agreed with her father. It is a good match for you. She is most gifted in logic.”

“But I do not want her. Not for her logic nor for anything else.”

“You are being stubborn.”

“It is my life.”

“You are my son. And while you live under my roof you will do as I say.”

Spock gave no reply. In truth he did not trust himself in that moment to say anything appropriate. He simply turned and marched towards his room.

But he was determined. He would be honest to himself, even if no-one else would.


	2. Poor Unfortunate

It was the one place he didn’t think his father would look for him. The old temple seemed deserted this late at night and Spock was able to sit quiet and undisturbed while he organised his thoughts.

Spock had left his father’s house knowing him to be correct – that he could not continue to live there if he didn’t want to be constrained by his father’s rules. He had therefore packed up his essentials and snuck out. However he did not know what to do now.

He had in mind to join Starfleet. The organisation he’d heard mentioned when he’d seen the humans earlier. He hoped having a human mother would enable him to register with them. The problem was he did not know how to go about it and had not waited to use the computers at home to check.

Although that would have easily alerted his father to his aims which wasn’t desirable. Much better in fact to wait until morning when he could use one of the terminals in town to research the correct procedures.

For now, he allowed his mind to contemplate again the pair he’d seen previously. Something about their dynamic called to him and he turned the brief encounter over in his mind to try and isolate the specific appeal.

The phrase came back to him suddenly: _“You wouldn’t have me any other way.”_

That was what he yearned for. That acceptance for who he was, without any commands to change. He saw again in his mind’s eye the gently smiling face of the good-humoured man and an almost memory surfaced. A woman, his mother, smiling tenderly at him.

“You look like you have experienced a revelation.”

The voice startled Spock and he turned to see he was no longer alone. A robed Vulcan was approaching him yet the man looked like no Vulcan Spock had ever encountered. His hair was long and unkempt and he wore a beard such as Spock had only seen on humans. His ear tips argued for a Vulcan heritage though Spock knew that was not conclusive proof.

“Are you Vulcan?”

The question was out before Spock realized the impropriety of it and he turned away in shame. To his utmost surprise, the man laughed. Spock looked back as he was joined on the bench.

“I am Vulcan,” he confirmed. “My mother was priestess here before me. My father gave me to her care and she raised me to accept my emotions. To question the accepted precepts.”

“You are the priest here.” It was not a question but a realisation on Spock’s part and he felt a mixture of anxiety and curiosity.

“I am. My name is Sybok.”

“Spock.”

“And what brings you out here so late at night?”

“I… needed a quiet place to think.”

Sybok said nothing and merely watched him, silently inviting him to continue. Spock felt a rush of gratitude that someone wished to hear his thoughts and they burst from him.

“My father wishes me to bond in the morning with a woman I do not care for. He never heeds my thoughts… or feelings. So I have made up my mind to join Starfleet. I saw some cadets today. Two in particular… one in particular who I feel would accept me. He… reminded me of my mother. She was human.”

“Your mother was human? That is most unusual.”

“My father was the ambassador to Earth,” Spock explained, used to this type of reaction. “It was logical to marry a human in order to better understand their culture.”

“Your father was the ambassador to Earth? Sarek?”

Spock glanced at Sybok who was looking back quite intensely.

“Yes.”

A different silence fell and Spock was conscious that he had perhaps put himself in danger. This man was a self-confessed challenger of the government status quo and he had just admitted to being the son of a highly respected diplomat.

“I will help you.”

“I beg your pardon?” The response was so unexpected that Spock couldn’t help his exclamation.

“I will help you get to Starfleet.” Sybok clarified. “I have my own contacts and sufficient funds-”

“No. I could not ask.”

“And you have not. Let me do this Spock,” Sybok insisted. “It is important to me. For reasons that are probably too complicated to explain. But I would be happy to help.”

“It is strange hearing a Vulcan speak thus.”

Sybok laughed.

“You’re going to be surrounded by a lot of people speaking emotionally soon.” He clapped Spock on the shoulder. “I will begin preparations but we should be ready to leave for the shuttleport before morning.”

Spock was once again left with his thoughts but now they were whirling with emotion.

He would soon be leaving. Was he doing the right thing? Undoubtedly since to remain would mean submitting to his father’s crippling rules and bonding himself irrevocably to T’Pring, a match beneficial to neither of them.

How could he ever hope to repay Sybok’s extraordinary generosity? Though he had implied this was something he felt compelled to do. Perhaps fulfilling some long held oath? Atoning a past mistake? Spock would never ask but hoped it brought Sybok peace.

Was going to Starfleet the best decision he could make? He knew the curriculum would prove no problem but as Sybok had said, he would be in a vastly different environment. Was he prepared?

Instinctively he recalled the open smile of the sparkling-eyed cadet. If Spock could find him then he knew he would be fine. All his intuition, that he’d learned to trust if not to understand, told him that the man would accept Spock.

A slight blush lit his cheeks and he resolutely turned his attention onto other details he might need to consider.

He was running through his studies and learning when Sybok returned.

“Come.” He gestured briskly. “I have booked you passage and arranged admittance for you.”

“So swiftly?” Spock followed with a degree of trepidation, still uncertain he could trust this.

“I have friends in diplomatic circles,” Sybok explained. “Starfleet have been trying to lure Vulcan recruits for years. They were quite obliging.”

“I am only half Vulcan.”

“That’s good enough for them.”

Sybok indicated a hovercar and Spock moved to get in clutching his small bag of belongings defensively, although whether he thought Sybok would try and take it or that he’d need it to defend himself he was not sure.

“The academy offer food and board so you need not worry about those necessities for a while. They also provide any study materials required. Part of their equalities programme so no student misses out through lack of funds. And they’ll issue you clothing.”

It was not far to the spaceport and already Spock could see the structure growing through the window.

“If your father thinks to ask me, which I admit is unlikely, do you wish me to tell him where you have gone?”

Spock turned to survey his companion as he considered his response. On the one hand, he did not wish his father to know where he was. He had no wish to be unceremoniously dragged home. Yet he felt it was asking too much to expect this stranger, who was already doing so much for him, to conceal the truth on his behalf.

Though Sybok was correct that it was unlikely Sarek would ask him. And Spock couldn’t quite deny the thrill of rebellion he felt at envisaging him being told his son had run away to Starfleet.

“You may tell him,” he concluded.

Sybok nodded once before pulling into the port. As Spock got out, Sybok leaned across to him.

“Spock? You’re going to find it quite disorientating at first. Just hang onto the reason why you left.”

Spock turned towards the entry and focused his mind on a warm smile and honest eyes.


	3. Mysterious Fathoms

Spock had been completely unprepared.

Oh, he’d managed the trip from the port to the academy fine. And he’d registered and received his supplies. The faculty had arranged a single room for him in concession to his Vulcan heritage and he’d settled perfectly well the first night.

Today though, today everything was beginning to seem too much. The morning classes had been manageable. Educationally in fact they had been easy but from a social point of view they’d been overwhelming.

His classmates had been warm and welcoming, coming over and introducing themselves. Spock had stared at their extended hands without a clue what to do. Their talk had been fast and overlapping so much so that he wasn’t clear what was being said half the time. His only response had been to remain silent.

They’d seemed put off, and in some cases offended, but Spock really had no idea how else to handle such a battering of focused attention.

It was lunchtime now and Spock had just negotiated the food line. He stood indecisively wondering where to head when a new voice interrupted him.

“Hey. You’re a long way from home ain’t ya?”

The question was similar to several he’d heard today and Spock was already answering as he turned.

“I should imagine that is true for all of us.”

Then he stopped short as he recognised the soft burst of laughter and smiling face.

“True. Vulcan right?”

“Correct.”

“Well I only meant to imply that ya looked a little lost. Why don’t ya come sit with us?”

The warm eyed man tilted his head in the direction of a quiet table towards the edge of the crowd and Spock saw his companion from Vulcan watching. On being noticed the man smiled and gave a friendly wave.

Spock returned his attention to the man in front of him. He was standing a respectful distance for which Spock was grateful. Too many people had breached his personal barriers today. It was a relief to be able to breathe a little easier for a minute.

He stepped forward and the man smiled. Spock ducked his head to his tray and continued to follow him to the table.

As they sat, the man finally introduced himself.

“I’m McCoy,” he said. “Leonard McCoy.”

Spock nodded his acknowledgement and stored the name. It puzzled him why the man should have both the same first and last name but then he was not familiar with human culture.

“James T. Kirk,” his friend announced. “But most people call me Jim.”

“Jim,” Spock repeated, surveying him to lock the face with the name before turning to the man at his side. “McCoy.”

For some reason Spock did not understand the man laughed.

“You got a name?” Jim asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re supposed to tell us what it is at this stage,” McCoy not so subtly whispered.

Spock felt a flush of pleasure at the guidance and quickly returned his gaze to Jim.

“S’chn T’gai Spock,” he offered.

Beside him, McCoy laughed again.

“Lord! I doubt we could pronounce that. Is it alright if we call you Spock?”

“Indeed. That is my familiar name.”

Both men shook their head at this but since they were smiling Spock assumed this was not negatively meant.

“Must be difficult being so far from home,” Jim said.

McCoy scowled suddenly across at him. Spock looked between them in confusion.

“It is not really,” he offered.

“Okay.” Jim leaned back thoughtfully. “Either Vulcans are a lot colder than I was expecting or you got some family issues.”

Jim yelped as McCoy kicked him under the table. Spock hesitated but answered anyway.

“My father had a different plan for me.”

“Excuse the kid,” McCoy growled before leaning across to hiss at Jim. “It ain’t polite to pry.” He turned his glare from Jim and looked sympathetically to Spock. “I know how much Vulcans value their privacy. I _told_ him not to ask personal questions.”

“I didn’t!” Jim protested but he was ignored.

“You have studied Vulcans?” Spock asked, intrigued.

McCoy’s gaze dropped and he shrugged.

“I’m in the medical division. We have t’ learn about all the cultural taboos.”

“Don’t let him get away with that,” Jim interrupted, pointing a spoon severely at McCoy. “He’s streets ahead of anyone else in xenobiology.”

“Oh hush you,” McCoy admonished but he was smiling. “Anyway,” he turned back to Spock. “We understand about the no touching thing, and the repression of emotions, so if you ever want to hang out with us you’ll be welcome. Without having to pretend to be one of the guys.”

“And I promise not to pry.” Jim held a palm up in what Spock thought might be the ta’al except he kept his fingers together. “Its not like we’re big on family discussions ourselves.”

“Hhmph,” McCoy scoffed. “You love talking about yourself,” he said teasingly but he smiled fondly at Jim before transferring his gaze back to Spock.

Spock could feel his ear tips flushing and struggled to think of something to say that might express his gratitude. All he could manage was a nod.

McCoy smiled again at him before rising suddenly.

“I got to get to class. We’re playing at triage this afternoon.” He rolled his eyes. “See you both later?”

“Sure.” Jim waved him off and Spock watched him leave with an air of regret.

“McCoy’s already qualified as a doctor,” Jim said apropos of nothing. “He can get a bit grouchy about the lessons he already knows.”

“Then why is he doing them?”

“Starfleet requirement. Have to have everyone working to the same regulations.”

“He must have a great desire to explore.”

Jim burst out laughing.

“Bones? Hell no!”

Spock frowned.

“Then why is he at the academy?”

“Truthfully? Because I asked him.” Jim’s humour dissolved. “I had a rough few years and needed to pull my life together. But I knew if I came here alone I’d wind up doing something stupid, sooner or later. Bones is my moral support. I rely on him more than I probably should but that’s the thing about Bones, once he decides you’re worth it, you have his loyalty for life.”

Silence fell as Spock absorbed those words and then Jim laughed again.

“Sorry. Shouldn’t be talking to you about my emotional problems I guess.”

“On the contrary. I find they help my understanding enormously.”

“Good.” Jim stood. “’cause he’d have my hide if I did anything to make you uncomfortable.”

Before Spock could query that remark Jim was heading off.


	4. Part Of Your World

It wasn’t until dinner time that Spock saw McCoy again. The doctor appeared late to the table looking harried.

“Sorry, sorry,” he apologised. “Got into a bit of an argument with the teacher over triage. She kept me behind.”

Jim rolled his eyes.

“Why can’t you just let them think they’re right?”

“Because they’re _not_! I don’t expect you to understand Jim but I swore a Hippocratic oath. I ain’t gonna keep quiet when it may mean some poor sod gets the wrong treatment.”

“I will apply, for the benefit of the sick, all measures that are required, avoiding those twin traps of overtreatment and therapeutic nihilism.”

The quiet voice startled Jim and McCoy and they both looked to Spock. He felt the weight of their joint stare and fought to keep his own gaze steady.

“You know the Hippocratic oath?”

“It was part of my comparative study with the precepts of Surak.”

Jim grinned.

“Guess you two will have lots to talk about then.”

For some reason this comment made McCoy scowl and once again kick Jim’s shin.

“Ow! You keep that up and I won’t be able to dance later. You’ll have to stay behind too to treat me.”

“Oh don’t be such a baby.” McCoy’s gaze slid across to Spock. “Ah, we usually go to this local club… dance a little, drink a little… but if you’d rather not go…”

Spock hesitated. He had never been out dancing, or indeed drinking, and truthfully it did not sound like something he wished to do. Yet he did not wish to relinquish their company. Particularly McCoy’s who had been absent for much of the afternoon.

He had been most grateful to Jim, who he found was on the same Command course as him, as the human effortlessly guided him through the social morass of the academy. Yet he could not deny that it was McCoy he wished to know better. McCoy’s smile he wished to provoke.

“I would be interested in joining you.”

Both Jim and McCoy beamed.

“Great. We’ll meet you at the entrance in 30 minutes?”

“40,” Jim amended.

“40,” Spock agreed and watched as the two humans hurried off to change for the evening.

Spock briefly worried over the appropriate clothing to wear for such an excursion before realising that was pointless. He had one set of casual clothes beyond those he had travelled in.

He was easily ready in 20 minutes and arrived after a further ten minutes in case McCoy proved correct in his estimate. He did not. In fact it was another 5 minutes before his companions arrived.

Jim was wearing a loose shirt and tight pants while McCoy had opted for some blue denim trousers with a checked shirt.

“Looking good Spock.” Jim eyed him up and down in his simple dark tunic and pants. “The ladies will be flocking to you.”

Spock shook his head.

“I am not interested in women.”

“Really?” McCoy stared at him.

“Is that a problem?” Spock asked uncertainly.

“No! Not at all. Jim and I are both bi-”

“Pan,” Jim interrupted.

“I just thought Vulcans would be more strict,” McCoy continued with an embarrassed flush.

“They are,” Spock agreed. “That is partly why I left.”

“Well anyway,” Jim filled the awkward pause. “You’ll get plenty of interest tonight, I’m sure.”

Spock couldn’t help but glance towards the doctor. He had come to Earth looking for acceptance that was lacking on Vulcan. And he’d found it with the cadets he’d believed he would. Yet now he realised there was more to McCoy’s appeal than his general aura of kindness.

It was only when he’d faced the possibility that McCoy might be heterosexual, or even object to homosexual relationships, that he’d recognised his own desire for such a relationship with him.

And how could he not? The man was handsome, intelligent, compassionate, thoughtful, principled and clearly a loyal friend.

Spock’s step faltered slightly as he saw Jim sling an arm around McCoy’s shoulders and lean in to whisper something to him and his heart sunk. Of course. He should have realised at once. Jim and McCoy were obviously already a couple.

He ducked his head and regained control of himself. It was no matter. He had come to escape his father’s control and his enforced betrothal, both of which he had done. Anything further was irrelevant. He was fortunate to have made friends with Jim and McCoy. He must not look for anything further.

“Here we are!” Jim’s voice interrupted his inner rebuke and he found himself being led inside a club.

The noise and crowd were distracting and he was inordinately grateful when he felt McCoy’s hand on his shoulder.

“Jim. Get drinks,” McCoy ordered while he guided Spock through to a quieter space with tables. “If you need to leave at any point,” McCoy leant in close to make sure he was heard. “You just say. Alright?”

Spock nodded and swallowed hard. McCoy was closer than he’d been yet and his eyes held a new intensity at this distance. That plus his breath felt most warm against his ear.

Jim arrived back grinning broadly with three glasses clutched in his hands. He deposited then on the table and turned to grab McCoy.

“Come dance,” he insisted.

McCoy rolled his eyes but his smile was fond as he allowed Jim to pull him away. He glanced quickly to Spock though.

“You be alright?”

“Perfectly fine,” Spock assured them before hastily sipping some water and focusing on easing his heartrate. His eyes watched the two as they moved into the crowd and joined in the movement. It lacked the true synchronicity of Vulcan dancing yet there was a consistency brought about by the beat of the music.

Individuality within a collective. Uniqueness incorporated into an overall uniformity.

“Come dance with us!”

Jim’s voice broke Spock from his quiet contemplation and he froze in momentary alarm. Jim was grinning at him but Spock’s gaze shifted to McCoy who was still swaying on the dancefloor. McCoy was watching him with concern.

Spock didn’t want to be a source of concern. He knew if he joined them they would feel more relaxed yet it was a step he could not take. He could not enjoy the uninhibited freedom they felt.

“C’mon,” Jim cajoled. “You’ll enjoy it.”

“Jim,” McCoy’s sharp tone cut through the music. “Let him be and get back here.”

Jim hesitated a moment longer before shrugging and trotting back over to McCoy.

Spock instinctively relaxed but then felt a wave of sorrow as he watched the two humans. They were smiling and laughing and twirling each other and Spock realised it was a world he could never know.

He drew on his training and stored the emotions away. It was futile to dwell on something he could not have. He must be content to watch. And he would never seek to impinge on their joy by exposing his own desires.

Still, when McCoy glanced his way again and threw out a genuinely happy smile, Spock knew he would never stop desiring that flash of feeling.


	5. Kiss

It was ironic, possibly even amusing Spock conceded, how much more like a Vulcan he was behaving here on Earth than he had managed on Vulcan. But really, it was necessary.

McCoy seemed able to bring his emotions out with disconcerting ease. And not just his softer feelings when he’d flash that smile at him – Spock clamped down on those out of deference to McCoy’s relationship with Jim – but he realised with dismay that McCoy could equally easy stir him to annoyance when arguing some tenet of Starfleet policy.

Which was all the more frustrating because McCoy was always first to admonish the other students for looking to provoke an emotional reaction.

Jim at least was easy company. He watched McCoy’s defence of Spock with an amused smile and himself got away with probing at Vulcan ideology with only a minor reprimand.

Yet in truth he did not mind Jim’s questioning. The man was incredibly curious, much like Spock himself, and answered as many questions as he asked. It was a difference Spock had noted between them. McCoy did not like talking about his private life whereas Jim was free with any personal information he wanted.

Often it was too much information yet if ever Spock tried to enquire about McCoy, Jim would turn the conversation away to protect his privacy. While Spock lauded this behaviour and admired Jim’s discretion, he always felt a disappointment that he could seemingly get no closer.

Naturally he would then admonish himself for trying to do so and enforce a stronger lock on his emotions. It was becoming so the humans believed he had no emotions which he consoled himself was better than the alternative. His father might even be proud.

Spock stopped short and wondered if he was possibly hallucinating. There, across the campus, robes billowing as he strode towards him, was Sarek.

By the time Spock had concluded that this was no hallucination, his father was upon him.

“S’chn T’gai Spock. You will accompany me at once.”

For an instant, Spock felt panic at being taken home. At being taken from Jim who inspired him and McCoy who delighted him. Then he registered that Sarek had not yet turned to lead him away and he realised that he still had a measure of control. His father was not sure of his compliance.

“No father.” His voice remained calm. “I am becoming more adept at being Vulcan here than I did at home. It would be illogical to leave.”

Sarek arched an eyebrow.

“The necessity of your return is because of your betrothal to T’Pring. That is immutable.”

T’Pring. Spock had not thought of her once. He considered having to spend a lifetime with her and felt his spirit suffocate from the very idea.

“It is not immutable,” he objected.

“Your own survival depends upon it.”

“I should rather spend a few years with these people than a lifetime with her.”

Spock saw a spark of anger in his father’s eyes and braced himself for either a verbal or physical rebuke.

“Spock?” The soft voice sent a surge of emotion through Spock that he knew he was helpless to conceal in the face of his father. “Everythin’ alright?”

Sarek turned and cast his gaze over McCoy who’d come up beside Spock.

“This is one of your new friends? You cannot trust humans son. They are cruel and know only how to destroy.”

McCoy stiffened and Spock saw the flare of anger in his eyes. Swiftly, Spock latched his hand about the man’s wrist in an attempt to keep him from retaliating.

“You are wrong. McCoy is a doctor. Cruelty is against his very nature.”

“A doctor.” Sarek’s sneering attitude was clear despite his steady tone. “Human medicine is mere beads and rattles.”

“That is untrue and prejudiced. McCoy’s knowledge of xenobiology is second to none. I would trust him with my life.”

He felt McCoy’s sharp eyes shift from his father to him but he kept his own gaze fixed. He was glad to have the solid pressure of McCoy’s wrist in his palm though and calmed himself by measuring the pulse.

“It is your life you would be sacrificing by staying here,” Sarek retorted. “Enough of this. You will come home and you will marry T’Pring.”

“No father. I do not love her.”

“You do not know what you are saying.”

“I do. I do not love her. I love…” He stopped, suddenly afraid of ruining his friendship with McCoy and turned wide eyes to him, hoping the man would not realise what he’d been about to say.

To his heartache though, the shining eyes looking back at him were wide in surprised understanding.

“You love me?” The voice was quiet but not quiet enough for Sarek not to hear.

“Nonsense,” he admonished.

McCoy however was not paying him any attention, his gaze focused entirely on Spock. Spock dropped his own gaze but then felt McCoy shift his hand to entwine their fingers and his breath hitched.

“Darlin’?” McCoy breathed even softer.

The brown eyes meeting his gave all the answer required.

“Uh… guys?” Jim’s voice broke the moment. “What’s going on here?”

McCoy turned to his friend and gestured with his free hand to Sarek.

“Spock’s father wants to drag him back to Vulcan.”

“What? You can’t do that.”

Jim stepped up to Spock’s other side.

“I am his father. I know what is best for my son.”

“Bullshit,” Jim exclaimed. “Spock belongs here. He’s _happy_ here.”

“He is Vulcan. Happiness is irrelevant.”

“He’s half human and I say his happiness is perfectly relevant.” McCoy squeezed his hand gently.

Sarek cast his gaze between the two humans before settling on Spock.

“Unless you intend to take me by force father, you have no option but to respect my decision.”

For a long moment no-one spoke. Then Sarek drew himself up primly.

“You are no son of mine,” he declared. “You will be disowned, just as Sybok was before you.”

As he turned to go Spock couldn’t hold back his surprise.

“Wait. Sybok is my brother?”

Sarek turned back with a superior expression.

McCoy leaned in quickly towards Spock and whispered.

“He’s playing on yer emotions Spock. Using your curiosity ‘bout Sybok to lure you home.”

Jim clutched his shoulder on his other side.

“We can find out what you want to know from here,” he added.

Spock glanced at Jim’s earnest face and then turned to gaze at McCoy. He drew in a calming breath and looked back to his father.

“I am staying here. With people who care about me.”

Sarek said nothing further but strode away without a backward glance.

“Well, he’s a right piece of work,” McCoy commented. “You alright Spock?”

“I will be.” Spock set his focus on their still conjoined hands. “Forgive me if I have discomforted you by my admission. I should also inform you Vulcans kiss with their fingers.”

He heard Jim snort behind him.

“Actually… I kinda knew that.”

Spock hesitantly raised his eyes to see McCoy flushing pink.

“Figured you wouldn’t mind seeing as how you sort of implied you liked me too.”

“Too? But I thought you and Jim…?”

“Me and Bones?” Jim broke in disbelievingly. “He’s like my brother! That would be all kinds of awkward.”

“Then you are not…”

McCoy interrupted by raising their hands and placing a chaste kiss to the back of Spock’s knuckles.

“I’m interested elsewhere,” he offered.

“Even though I am half Vulcan?”

“Darlin’, I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

CODA

The club wasn’t too crowded this evening. Spock had a clear view of the dancefloor where Jim and McCoy were bouncing to the music.

As the song changed to something slower though, they made their way back to the table where Jim dramatically collapsed. McCoy however smiled sweetly at Spock.

“Come dance with me?” he asked.

Spock offered a half smile back before promptly rising and moving with him to an empty space. With easy familiarity they stepped close and latched hands on waists before starting a slow meander.

“I’ve been reading up on Vulcan biology,” McCoy said. “Seems you can do a telepathic thing with partners?”

“A bond,” Spock agreed. “Vulcans require them in long term partners.”

McCoy nodded silently before coughing awkwardly.

“Would you ever consider that with me?”

“I do not know how such a bond would work with a human,” he averred.

“Obviously worked with your mother,” McCoy objected before dropping his gaze. “But I understand if I’m not-”

“Ashayam,” Spock interrupted swiftly. “I simply do not wish to injure you. I am not familiar with the procedure.”

“Your brother?” McCoy spoke hopefully and Spock nodded.

“Sybok would certainly be willing and capable of assisting if we choose to commit in that way.”

McCoy smiled.

“Perhaps we can talk about it after we finish the academy.”

“That may indeed be a good time.” Spock stopped moving as he leant forward and kissed McCoy’s forehead. “I would choose to bond with no-one else,” he promised.

McCoy tucked his head onto Spock’s shoulder.

“Good,” he murmured. “’cause now I got you, I ain’t ever letting you go.”


End file.
